Chapter 9
Remington looked up, his gaze icy cold.
“I don’t have time for your make–believe games. Take it back.”
“I’m serious.”
Remington tossed the pen he was holding without a hint of emotion. The steel pen clattered on the desk, striking a chord in Lizetta’s heart.
“Divorce reasons, huh? Bad breath and azoospermia? You know spreading rumors comes with consequences,” his voice was chilly.
Lizetta felt a twinge of guilt about this, her eyelashes fluttering slightly.
“I didn’t start those rumors. I’ve spelled out the reasons for the divorce clearly.”
Remington flipped through the papers, his eyes landing on the annotated reasons for divorce, his look growing even colder.
“Huh, care to explain what ‘no love, no sex, a marriage in name only‘ means?”
Lizetta pressed her lips, “Just stating the facts.”
Remington stood up, his long legs taking him around the desk. His towering presence forced Lizetta to sidestep until her lower back was pressed against the solid desk.
With a stretch of his arm, he easily cornered her with nowhere to retreat. He leaned in close, his voice simmering with fury by Lizetta’s ear.
“Stating the fact? Who was the man last night who made you moan non–stop, the one you clung to, begging him not to leave?”
Thinking about last night brought tears to Lizetta’s eyes. The more fiery the start, the more desolate the end.
She put her hand against his chest, “Severely underperforming, are you saying a ninety–year–old man who’s good to go once every three years should shout about his sex life through a megaphone?”
Last night was an exception, and besides, her husband wouldn’t even kiss her.
A vein throbbed in Remington’s forehead; this woman dared to mock his manhood. Her pushing only fueled his anger further. He gripped her wrist, his chest pressing forward.
Lizetta was forced to lean back; years of dance training made her back as flexible as a willow branch against the desk, her hair spilling across it. This position caused Lizetta’s chest to heave against his sturdy torso.
Remington’s voice was cold, “I had no idea you were so needy. Who are you planning to find to satisfy you after the divorce, Mrs. Dashiell?”
Lizetta, infuriated, tried to kick him, but her leg was trapped by his long limb. His legs were like iron bars, and Lizetta couldn’t break free, accidentally brushing against something she shouldn’t have and freezing up
She was discussing divorce, and Remington was getting a reaction.
“You jerk!” Lizetta was red–faced with frustration.
Remington sneered, “Mrs. Dashiell, your unsatisfied desires isn’t this exactly what you’ve been scheming for? You trapped me four years ago; you should be prepared to atone for a lifetime!”
Lizetta’s face went pale; he had always blamed her.
“That night, I truly didn’t know what happened.”
“The drink was handed to me by you, and only you registered your fingerprint to enter the bedroom besides me. Who else could it be if not you?”
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Lizetta choked up; no more explanations would work. He was convinced she had betrayed his trust, and she was at a loss for words.
They went from being as close as siblings to complete strangers. She felt as if she was back on that morning, waking up to his fury and his piercing words.
“Lizetta, I didn’t fricking raise you all prim and proper just for you to climb into my bed!”
Tears welled up in Lizetta’s eyes, her pale face reflecting her pain, “I regret it, okay? Take that as me being regretted.”
Remington’s scoff was cold.
“Knowing you’re the sinner, just be a good Mrs. Dashiell! Besides, look at yourself – which part of you wasn’t given by the Dashiell family? A thousand square meter villa, jewels and clothes galore, a no– limit credit card to swipe as you please. Living in the lap of luxury like this, can you survive without me?”
Lizetta’s throat felt like it was filled with hot gravel as she murmured.
“So even you never respected me.”
He thought she was just a parasite, leeching off the Dashiell family, unworthy of her own life. Even if she left with nothing after the divorce, she still wouldn’t be in the same league! NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.
Her voice was so low that Remington, even close, couldn’t make it out.
He frowned slightly; seeing her pale, fragile demeanor, he felt a twinge of pain in his own heart. He had spoken too harshly in his anger, and just as he was about to explain, a knock on the door sounded.
Lizetta snapped back to reality; pushing Remington away with reddened eyes, she blurted out, “Then just watch – let’s see if I can survive without you!”